


Missing the Bus

by Ytteb



Series: The Bus [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Adventure, Friendship, Gen, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:21:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: Tony has plans for the weekend with his friends from the bus … unsurprisingly they don't go smoothly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The 'bus people' were introduced in two previous stories 'Tony's Omnibus Odysseys' and 'On the Bus' but I don't think it will matter if you haven't read those stories – I'll explain things as I go along.

“What you doing here, DiNozzo?” asked Special Agent Gibbs as he arrived to work.

“Working?” offered Tony DiNozzo.

“Good to know,” said Gibbs drily, “But I thought you were taking today as vacation?”

“I am,” said Tony hastily, “But there was something niggling me about the Cowper case.  Just wanted to make sure we hadn’t missed something.”

“And had we?”

“No, don’t think so but you know what it’s like … when there’s something eating away at you?”

Gibbs nodded.  DiNozzo’s doggedness and unwillingness to let go were two reasons for having hired him.

“And I had time, Boss.  Not meeting the others till 1000.”

“Go on then,” ordered Gibbs, “Get out of here.  Before I find a reason to keep you here.”

Tony looked at Gibbs trying to discern if this was a joke but, unable to detect any sign of a twinkle, decided not to risk it and quickly shut his computer down and grabbed his backpack.  “See you Monday, Boss.”

Gibbs nodded, “Have a good one.”

“Hold the door!” bellowed Tony as he saw McGee and Bishop emerge from the elevator.

“We get a case?” asked Bishop bewildered at Tony’s turn of speed.

“Don’t know!  Don’t care!” crowed Tony as he swept past them.  He gave them a cheery wave as the doors closed on him.

“Boss?” asked McGee, “What was Tony doing here?”

“His work,” said Gibbs coolly.

“What?”

“You have a problem with my Senior Field Agent showing some dedication?” asked Gibbs.

“No, Boss.  Of course not, Boss.  It’s just that …”

“Just what, McGee?”

“Nothing, Boss.  I’m going to start work now.”

“Good idea, McGee.  You got something to say, Bishop?” asked Gibbs as he saw that his other agent was standing by her desk.

“No, Gibbs.”

“Good.”  Gibbs switched his computer with something approaching relish.  A quiet day completing case reports and looking at cold cases beckoned.  Agent Gibbs would have denied it vigorously, but he actually sometimes looked forward to office-based days with his agents working away safely: somehow, they appealed to his sense of order although he suspected he didn’t understand much of what Bishop and McGee got up to as they tapped away at their keyboards.

Silence reigned for about two hours and then Gibbs finally succumbed to itchy feet and a burning need for caffeine and announced,

“Going for coffee!”

Bishop and McGee simply nodded in a distracted manner but, as soon as Gibbs had left the squad room, looked up in relief.

“Why didn’t you go with Tony?” asked McGee.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, Tony’s trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains.  I thought it would be right up your street.”

“I thought about it,” agreed Ellie.  “I like Tony’s bus people.”

McGee nodded.  Tony had met the _bus people_ when he had been without a car and forced to travel on public transport.  He had formed an unlikely friendship with his fellow passengers and had continued to travel by bus a couple of times a week even after he had bought a new car.  They sometimes met up socially, generally looked out for one another and had now planned a long weekend of driving through the Blue Ridge Mountains to see the Fall colours.  The team had all met, and liked, the bus people and had been invited to join the tour.

“I have this half-price offer for a weekend spa stay,” explained Ellie, “It runs out this weekend.  And I really feel I need to kick back and be pampered.  What about you?”

“Do I feel the need to kick back and be pampered?”

“No.  Why aren’t you going this weekend?”

“Thought about it but some of my MIT buddies are in town for the weekend.  We’re going to have us some virtual reality fun!”

Ellie nodded understandingly and then, hearing the elevator arrive, they bent to their work once more.  The tranquillity and peace had had its effect on Gibbs, and he had brought them drinks.  It was a good day.

It was past midday when McGee muttered, “Huh.”

Gibbs was fluent in interpreting when a _huh_ required a response, “McGee?”

“I was looking at Tony’s emails …”

“You hacked Tony’s emails?”

“No, Boss.  No, of course not.  Tony and I can look at each other’s emails.  We’ve given each other permission.”

“Why?” asked Gibbs who didn’t look at his own emails and couldn’t understand wanting to read other people’s.

“Er, it’s efficient.  You know, if one of us it out of the office …or on vacation … means someone else can keep up to date with anything urgent.”

Gibbs shrugged, beginning to be bored by the explanation but he remembered the tone of the _huh,_ “And?” he asked.

“And?” replied Tim.

“You said _huh_ ,” Gibbs reminded him.

“Oh yes.  Well, Tony’s had an email.  You know a courtesy notification …” McGee trailed off as he wondered if Gibbs would understand the concept of a courtesy notification.

“And?” asked Gibbs again, hoping it wasn’t a notification of a special showing of an obscure movie that only a DiNozzo would enjoy.

“One of the Macalusos was released on Wednesday.”

“What?” snapped Gibbs.

“Who are the Macalusos?” asked Ellie.

“Mike Macaluso was a Mafia Boss in Baltimore,” explained Tim, “Tony helped bring him down.  He went undercover when he was a cop there.”

“And?” prompted Ellie.

“They weren’t happy,” said Gibbs succinctly.  “Who’s been let out, McGee?”

“Um,” McGee looked at the email again, “Ricardo Macaluso.  Mike’s middle son.  Uh oh.”

“What?” asked Gibbs, liking the sound of the _uh oh_ even less than he had liked the _huh_.

“When Ricardo was sentenced, he swore he’d kill Tony when he got out.”

“But lots of people do that, don’t they?” asked Ellie hopefully.  “I mean, not lots of people wanting to kill Tony specifically but wanting revenge, losing their temper when they’re sentenced…”

“Yes,” said Gibbs.

“And they don’t … I mean, they don’t actually kill the people who arrest them?”

“You want to take that risk, Bishop?” asked Gibbs, “And this is Mafia we’re talking about.  McGee, call Tony, let him know.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Bishop, start tracing where this Ricardo Macaluso has gone,” ordered Gibbs.

While his agents worked, Gibbs wondered again how impeccable DiNozzo’s timing managed to be: he was out of Gibbs’ sight just as danger had reared its head.  His thoughts were interrupted by his desk phone.  McGee and Bishop looked up, hoping that Tony’s _gut_ had kicked in and he was phoning Gibbs.  The look on the Boss’s face was not, however, encouraging.

“What you mean? …  How?  … What the … Send me the details … Wait a minute, “Gibbs put his hand over the receiver and summoned McGee, “Here, give the guy on the other end of the phone your email address.”

McGee nodded and obeyed.  “Um, Boss, why did I just give someone called Ernie my email address?” he asked when the phone call was ended.

“ _Ernie_ works for A to B Travel.  The coach Tony and the bus people hired for their trip has been stolen,” said Gibbs.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” said Ellie, “They were looking forward to the trip.”

“Boss?” said McGee, sensing something else was wrong.

“The bus has been stolen.  With Tony and his people with it.”

Bishop wondered if Gibbs had, unconsciously, a flair for the dramatic: he could have told them to start with that Tony had gone missing, but he had preferred to build the tension.  Bishop sighed, and decided it was a matter to consider at another time.  “What happened?” she asked.

“The driver showed up for his shift and prepped his bus.  He says someone came and told him that the passengers had changed their minds and didn’t want to leave until noon.  He went off for a break and when he came back a couple of hours later the bus had gone.”

“Doesn’t mean that Tony and the bus people have been taken though, does it?” asked Bishop hopefully.

“That’s what the bus company thought to start with – just an opportunistic theft.  So, they sent a replacement bus to the pick-up point but there was nobody waiting.  The driver asked around and people said they’d seen a bus pick up a few people around 1000.”

“And the driver just believed the guy who told him the trip had been delayed?” asked McGee.

“Seems he knew the name of the driver, time of the pickup.  All seemed legit,” replied Gibbs.

“Um, why did Ernie need my email address?” asked Tim.

“He’s sending us security camera coverage from this morning.  See if we can recognise who’s done this.”

“On it, Boss,” said Tim, returning to his computer.  “And Boss, I’m not getting a reply from Tony’s cell.  I think it’s been switched off.”

“Ernie said that the bus has LoJack – he was sending the details to that as well.  Get ready to roll when it comes through, we can find out where the damn bus has gone.”

“How did they know to contact NCIS?” asked Bishop even as she grabbed her gear.

“They seemed to know that Tony works for us.  Decided to call us before alerting Metro PD.”

“Boss, got a fix on the bus.  Looks as if it’s come to a stop near Old Rag Mountain,” said McGee.

“That’s part of the Blue Ridge Mountains, isn’t it?” asked Ellie, “Perhaps it’s all a mix-up?”

“Looks a bit off the beaten track,” said McGee doubtfully, “Some of the bus people are getting on a bit, they won’t be going hiking or anything.”

“Still …” said Bishop, “It might be a false alarm …”

“You ever know Tony switch his phone off?” demanded Gibbs.

“No, but …”

“On a day that the bus he was supposed to be travelling on gets stolen?” continued Gibbs.

“I guess not …”

“On the day we find out that someone who’s threatened to kill him is out of prison?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so,” said Gibbs blandly, “So I guess we’ll head out to Old Rag Mountain and see what’s going on?”

“Yes, Gibbs.”

“Good.  Call Abby, tell her to search for Macaluso and see if she can trace DiNozzo’s cell … or anyone else on the bus,” ordered Gibbs.

McGee and Bishop followed Gibbs to the elevator.

“Er Boss,” said McGee, “Do you really think Ricardo Macaluso is going after Tony?”  The look Gibbs gave Tim was answer enough.  “Yes, Boss.  Me too.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

 “It might not be Tony they’re after,” suggested Ellie as they raced out of DC as fast as the traffic would allow them – and sometimes, given that Gibbs was driving _, faster_ than the traffic would allow.

“What?” demanded Gibbs.

“Well, there’s other people on the bus,” said Bishop, “They could be the reason the bus has gone missing.”

Gibbs frowned, it seemed unlikely, but he had a rule against making assumptions.  “OK, what do we know about the other bus people?”

“I know Joe’s real name is Arthur Josephs,” offered Ellie.

“And he’s a tailor,” remembered McGee.

“You think he’s made someone a bad suit and they’re after revenge?” asked Gibbs sceptically.

“I guess not,” agreed McGee.

“What about the others?” asked Gibbs.

“I don’t even know their surnames,” admitted Bishop.  “Hey, Tony’s got a photo of them on his pin board.  Abby might be able to use it to run facial recognition …”

“Do it,” ordered Gibbs.

An hour later, Abby phoned with some results,

“I can believe those sweet people have gone missing,” she worried, “And Tony, of course.  But we’re kinda used to being in danger … I hope …”

“ _I_ hope you’ve found something, Abby,” said Gibbs brusquely.

“Of course I have,” said Abby indignantly.  She correctly interpreted Gibbs’ silence and hurried on, “And I’ll tell you.  Martha’s surname is Martha Clarke, she’s got two daughters – one lives in DC and the other lives in Michigan but she’s going to be moving soon because her son-in-law has got a new job with some high-tech firm in West Virginia.  She’s a member of the Diamond Club …”

“The what?” asked Bishop.

“It’s a women’s club, they do charity work, run a book group, have speakers in.  Sounds really interesting.  I’d try and join if I had time although it looks as if they have a long waiting list for new members …”

“What else?” asked Gibbs.

“Seya Kaur.  She works for the South West Public Library but before that she worked at the Hoover Building here in DC.”

“What? Asked McGee.  “Seya worked for the FBI?”

“In their archive department,” said Abby, “I guess it’s really interesting.  I might ask …”

“She married?” asked Gibbs.

“No, as far as I can see, she never married.  She was born in Pennsylvania.  Her parents immigrated from India and became American citizens ten years later.”

“Who else?” asked Gibbs.

“Julia Gordon works for a media company in DC.  She works for the legal department, gets involved with cases where the company is being sued.  Looks like she might be head of the department one day.”

“Huh,” said Gibbs, “She’s got a kid.  Is the father still around?”

“Not that I can tell.  I think there may be some problems there.”

“Keep digging,” ordered Gibbs.  “Anyone else?”

“Douglas Henton-Seavy.  He works for DAR – that’s a really big computer company, Gibbs – in the accounts department.  Working towards his accountancy qualifications.  Lives alone in DC.  His parents live in Hawaii, retired diplomats.”

“And you found this all from facial recognition on Tony’s photo?” asked Gibbs.

“I’m good at what I do,” said Abby primly, “And I was motivated, so I did my best work.”

“Thanks, Abs.  Put a CafPow on my tab,” said Gibbs.

“So,” said McGee, “Some of the bus people work for big companies … or have links to them.  Then there’s an FBI link and Douglas’s parents are retired diplomats.  Do we think someone could be after one of them for some reason?”

“Could be,” mused Gibbs, “Abby, keep checking.  Let us know if you find anything.”

“Of course.  And Gibbs, I heard back from Ricardo Macaluso’s parole officer.”

“And?”

“And he met him once, just after he was released.  Isn’t due to see him again till next week.”

“Did he seem OK?  Did he think he might be out for revenge?” asked McGee.

“He seemed a switched-on guy,” said Abby, “I think he’d have done something if he’d thought Ricardo was going to go after Tony.”

“I guess so,” said Ellie.

“But Gibbs, he did say that Macaluso looks a lot different to what he did when he was sentenced.”

“How so?” asked Gibbs.

“Lost a lot of weight.  He’s muscular and fit now rather than flabby.  His hair’s gone grey … which is a totally cool look by the way, Gibbs.”

“So, Tony might not recognise him?” deduced Bishop.

“DiNozzo’s a trained observer,” said Gibbs curtly but Bishop noticed that he put his foot down on the gas even harder after hearing Abby’s news.

PREVIOUSLY

“So,” said Joe, “We all know that we’re meeting at 1000 tomorrow?”

His fellow bus passengers nodded patiently: Joe had been over all the arrangements a dozen times.  Joe always took the lead in looking after people on the bus so organizing the weekend away was perfect for him … in fact it was _tailor made_ , which was useful as that had been his job throughout his working life.

It had been Joe’s idea that they all meet up the night before the trip to review the plans and also to get in the holiday mood, so they had met in the café close to the Navy Yard gates.

Martha wasn’t quite enough in the holiday mood to forgo knitting,

“You see,” she said, “My grandchildren all want scarves … they’re going to a football match next weekend.”  She cast a mischievous look at Tony who sighed dramatically,

“Michigan, I suppose.  You’ve usually got good taste in colours, I wondered why you had blue and yellow wool!”

Martha rapped him playfully over the knuckles with a knitting needle, this was an old argument.  “I haven’t told you though,” she said excitedly, “My son-in-law has got a new job.  He and my daughter are going to be moving to West Virginia, so they’ll be closer.”

“What’s the new job?” asked Joe.

Martha shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know.  Something high tech and hush hush,” she went back to her knitting.

“You’ll be glad to have them nearby,” said Seya in her usual calm way.  “Joe, would it be a good idea if I packed some Indian snacks – in case we get hungry on the way?   After all, we’ll be away in the Blue Ridge Mountains all weekend.”

Tony averted his eyes from the blue and yellow of Michigan and nodded vigorously at this suggestion.  Seya was an excellent cook who was generous in supplying tasty treats.

“I don’t think we’ll be going hungry,” said Joe, “I’ve got all the stopping points worked out.”  He sensed Tony’s disappointment so relented and said, “But I guess extra food never goes to waste.”

“Not with Tony around,” said Martha.

Tony tried to think of a suitable response but at that moment Julia arrived with her young son Charlie.  Charlie was a rare child who actually liked Tony and he rushed towards him for a hug.  Tony duly obliged and lifted him on to his lap.

“Sorry we’re late,” apologised Julia, “I had to finish a rush job at work.”

“That’s all right my dear,” said Seya, “We didn’t order you a drink in case it got cold.”

“I can’t stay,” said Julia, “Charlie needs to go to bed but I just wanted to make sure you know that I’ll be there tomorrow.  I’ve got my instructions,” she pulled out a sheaf of papers and Joe nodded approvingly.

“I’ve been doing some research as well,” piped up Douglas who, as usual, had been silent till now, “The Fall colours should be at their best right now.  And the weather forecast is good.”

The others nodded approvingly at Douglas.

“It will be good for you to get out in the fresh air,” said Martha kindly, “You spend too much time indoors, you know.  What with your work and your studying.”

 “Not much longer to go now,” he said hopefully.

“We’ll go out and celebrate together,” promised the others.

Tony grinned as he looked around the table at his unlikely circle of friends and wondered, as he often did, why he found it so relaxing to be with them.

“So,” announced Joe, “We’ll be on the A to B Travel bus.  And,” he paused for effect, “We’ve got Sid as our driver.”

“That’s nice,” said Seya, “He’s such a good driver.”

“Yes,” said Joe, “Ernie confirmed it this morning.”

Tony hid a smile as he wondered how often Joe had been in contact with Ernie in the weeks since they had decided on the trip.  He wondered how Joe found the time for all the organization given that he still looked after the clothes of some private clients and helped out three days a week at a halfway house repairing and altering donated clothes.

“And,” said Joe, “We all know where we’re meeting tomorrow?”  Before he could continue the others all said together,

“Outside the Eastern Market Metro Station.”

Joe grinned, he opened his mouth to speak again but the others chimed in,

“At 1000.  Sharp!”

“I’ll see you all tomorrow then,” said Joe, “And now, Charlie needs his bed and I think we could all do with an early night.  It’s going to be a busy weekend.”  Joe rubbed his hands together in excitement while the others smiled back.

“I’ve got my car,” said Tony, “I can give some of you a ride home.”

Douglas and Julia declined the offer as they lived nearby, and they left together.  Tony escorted Martha, Joe and Seya to his car.

As they left, the person sitting in a nearby booth nursing a mug of coffee, looked thoughtful.

NEXT DAY

The bus passengers assembled promptly the next morning and the A to B Travel bus soon drew up.  Joe sprinted up the steps as soon as the door opened and then stopped in surprise,

“I thought Sid was driving us?”

“He phoned in sick this morning,” said the driver, “Said he had a stomach upset and didn’t think he could manage to do the driving.”

“Oh,” said Joe, he went back down the steps, “Hey everyone, Sid couldn’t come.  He’s sick.”  There was a disappointed noise from the passengers, “But we’ve got … I’m sorry, I don’t know your name …” he asked the new driver.

“Dick.  My name’s Dick.”

“Nice to meet you, Dick,” said Joe offering his hand to be shaken.  He turned back to his friends, “This is Dick,” he announced.

Dick got out of and put the luggage into the under-bus storage compartment.  Everyone clambered aboard and found a seat.  Tony asked Joe something which had been puzzling him,

“Joe, why did you book such a big bus … oh,” he trailed off as he caught sight of the long seat at the back of the bus.  One of the first things he had learned about Joe was that he loved to ride at the back of the bus, “Never mind,” he said.

Joe beamed happily and went to check that Dick knew where they were going,

“Blue Ridge Mountains?” said Dick.  He seemed to sense this wasn’t enough of an answer, “Sorry, it was all last minute.  We didn’t want to keep you waiting so I came without being thoroughly briefed.”

“And without your uniform,” said Tony who had joined Joe.

Dick laughed nervously, “Like I said, I was in a hurry.  I was meant to be off today, so I just grabbed my cap and came,” he pointed to the ballcap with A to B written on it.

“Don’t mind him,” said Joe, elbowing Tony, “He’s a federal agent, paid to be suspicious.  We’re grateful to you for giving up your day off.  Aren’t we, Tony?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Tony.

“And don’t worry about not knowing where we’re going.  Ernie programmed it all into your Satnav,” said Joe encouragingly.

“Great,” said Dick, “Um …” he looked at his instrument panel blankly.

“You have driven a bus before, haven’t you?” asked Tony.

“Sure, just not this model.  This one’s new to the fleet, you know.”

“Don’t worry,” said Joe, “Ernie showed me how it worked.  It’s that panel there.  Press the green button and follow the instructions.”

Tony and Joe watched, with varying degrees of doubt, as Dick accessed the Satnav and brought up the first stage of the journey.  Joe took Tony firmly by the arm and led him to a seat at the back.  Tony looked back a couple of times but was reassured when Dick pulled away smoothly and began to navigate the DC traffic competently enough.

Charlie started singing _Wheels on the Bus_ and everyone joined in.  Tony wondered how many times he would sing that song before the weekend was over.  So far, Charlie’s appetite for that song had proved inexhaustible so it was likely to be a lot.

Progress was slow through the DC traffic, but they finally left the city and made towards Shenandoah National Park: Tony hoped there weren’t any sailors being murdered there, he was hoping for a quiet weekend.

“We were going to stop there!” called Joe after a couple of hours.  They had just cheered their first sight of the mountains and Joe had planned a stop at a café which was said to have great views.

“Sorry!” called Dick, “Missed it.  And it looked crowded anyway.  I figure there’s somewhere better up ahead.”

“Sorry, guys,” said Joe, “I was looking forward to one of their donuts.  They’re famous, you know.”

“Never mind,” said Seya, “Perhaps we can stop on the way back.  Now, it’s a good thing I packed some snacks.  And I made some Jalebi – they are fried like donuts and dipped in sugar syrup so perhaps you’ll enjoy them.”

Joe still looked a little discontented at his plan having been ignored but accepted one of Seya’s cakes which were indeed delicious even though they weren’t the donuts he’d been looking forward to.

The bus continued for a few more miles and then took a left turn.  Joe once again protested at an apparent change of route.

“This is a good road,” called back Dick, “Great views along here.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed in distrust.  Joe’s planning had been meticulously designed to be scenic and it seemed unlikely that he would have missed out on a picturesque opportunity.  It wasn’t long before the bus turned once again, this time along a dusty track.

“Has something gone wrong with the Satnav?” asked Joe.

“Looks like it,” admitted Dick.  “I’ll stop soon and see what’s happening.”

A few seconds later, he swerved off the track and came to a halt.

“I might just use the restroom,” said Martha, standing up and beginning to make her way towards the onboard facilities.

“Wait a moment, Martha,” said Tony, gently putting his hand on her arm.

Martha looked at him in puzzlement and then saw Dick striding down the aisle of the bus, holding a gun.

“Hey, you,” he ordered, “Federal Agent, put your gun down on the ground!”

NCISNCIS

45 minutes later, the NCIS car came close to where the LoJack data suggested the bus had stopped.  Gibbs stopped the car a few hundred yards away and the three of them approached cautiously.  As they drew closer, they heard banging and shouting from the bus,

“Help!  Help!  They’ve been taken!”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs and the others picked up speed as they heard the cries from inside the bus, but they still approached cautiously in case there was someone on the lookout.

“Look,” said Bishop as they got within feet of the bus.  McGee and Gibbs looked where she was pointing and saw a pile of cell phones along with another pile of batteries.

“Explains why we couldn’t get hold of any of them,” muttered Gibbs.

McGee tried the door handle, but the door didn’t budge.

“Bishop, try the emergency door,” ordered Gibbs as he took a turn in tugging on the handle.

“He took the key!” they heard through the door.

Gibbs raised his hand in acknowledgment, “Can you get it open?” he asked McGee suspecting there was some electrical computer jiggery-pokery needed.

McGee shrugged but set to work just as Ellie returned to report that she couldn’t get in the emergency door either.  McGee produced a set of tools which Gibbs suspected did not conform to NCIS regulations, but he was in no mood for reprimands.

A confused babble of noise continued to sound from inside the bus, but McGee soon worked his magic and the door swung open.  Gibbs sprinted up the steps, closely followed by Tim and Bishop,

“What happened?” he demanded.

“Dick, our replacement driver,” said Martha.

“He drove us here,” said Seya.

“Dick?” asked Gibbs in sudden suspicion, “What did he look like?”

“Nice,” said Martha.

“Grey haired, very fit and muscular,” said Seya, “And an excellent driver.  Well, until he went off track.”

“Macaluso,” breathed Bishop.

“He had a gun,” said Martha.

“And he made Tony give him his gun.  I didn’t know Tony wore a gun when he wasn’t at work,” said Seya.”

“Regulations,” said Gibbs briefly, “And he was at work first thing this morning.”

“Tony didn’t want to give him the gun,” said Martha, “But …”

Gibbs nodded, he knew Tony wouldn’t have wanted to risk some sort of gun fight with civilians including a … “Where’s Charlie?” he asked in sudden worry.

“We’re here,” said Julia from where she was sitting holding a sleeping Charlie.  “The excitement wore him out,” she said ruefully, “I think he thinks it’s all a game.”

“Wish it was,” said Gibbs.  He looked around the bus, “Where’s …”

“I’m here,” said Douglas emerging from the restroom, “Sorry, I keep needing to go …”

“Don’t worry,” said McGee, “It’s a natural reaction.”

From the sympathetic look Douglas got from the others it appeared that they all been making good use of the restroom.

“He took Tony … and Joe,” said Martha in a quavering voice.

“Why Joe?” asked Bishop in surprise.

“I don’t know,” said Seya who was struggling to maintain her usual poise.  “Dick told us to stay at the back of the bus, but Joe and Tony went to the front.  We couldn’t hear what was being said and the next thing we knew, we were locked in the bus.”

“Did you see which way they went?” asked Bishop.

“Further up the track,” said Julia, “The opposite way to where we came in.”

“They were all right?” asked McGee.

“I think so,” said Martha.

“How long ago?” asked Gibbs.

“About an hour,” said Douglas.

“Bishop, call the National Park Service: make them aware of the situation.  And call the local police as well.  Then stay here and look after everyone,” ordered Gibbs.

Bishop looked as if she wanted to argue but she realised that she probably knew the bus people better than Gibbs and McGee and that she was the best one to stay.

“And keep an eye open,” said Gibbs, “In case they circle back …”

“I know,” said Ellie, “Rule 8, don’t assume they’ve gone.”

Gibbs nodded approvingly before turning to McGee, “Let’s go.  We’ll grab some gear from the car.”

“We’ve got food if you want to take some,” offered Seya and, without waiting for an answer, she thrust a package at McGee who decided it was easiest to take it.

“Move it, McGee,” snapped Gibbs.

The remaining bus passengers followed them out and watched as they followed the track Dick had taken Tony and Joe down.

PREVIOUSLY

“Hey, you,” ordered Dick, “Federal Agent, put your gun down on the ground!”

Tony weighed up the options but was acutely aware of the vulnerability of his fellow passengers.  If he’d been on his own, he might have taken his chances, but he couldn’t risk a stray bullet hitting anyone.

“Take it easy,” he said, “And nobody will get hurt.”

“I know,” said Dick, “Now put the gun down and kick it towards me.”

“It’s not too late to stop this,” said Tony soothingly as he slowly brought his gun out.

“You think?” asked Dick sceptically.

“Nothing’s ever too late,” said Tony.

“Yeah, right.  Word of advice, Mr Philosophical, just keep your mouth shut if you want these nice people to keep on breathing.”

“Is Sid all right?” asked Joe in sudden anxiety.

The other passengers tensed in worry about how Dick had taken the place of the expected driver.

“He’s fine,” said Dick, “I just told him you’d decided to start a little later than planned.  He went off for a break.”

“How did you know about the trip?” asked Joe.

“You were in the café last night,” said Tony as a memory of a shadowy figure lingering over a latte came to mind.

“That’s right.  You were all real helpful in letting me know your plans.”

“But why?” asked Seya.

“Enough chatter,” ordered Dick. “All of you, get your cell phones out and take the batteries out.”

“Oh dear,” said Martha. “I don’t think I know how to do that.  One of my sons-in-law usually sorts out any problems with my cell.”

“Quit stalling,” snapped Dick.

“I’m not,” protested Martha, “You young people think it’s all so simple but it’s not to people who are older.”

“Give me the phone,” said Tony calmly, “I’ll do it for you.  Does everyone else know how to take the batteries out?”

Everyone else nodded.

“You, kid!” said Dick to Charlie, “Collect up the cells and the batteries and bring them to me!”

Charlie and Julia looked alarmed at the order, but Tony said quietly, “Charlie, do what he says.  And then go straight back to your Mom, OK?”

“Game?” asked Charlie.

“Kinda.  Just do what you’re told like a good boy.”

Charlie nodded and obeyed.  Dick stowed the cells and batteries in an unused sick bag and put them on the seat behind him.  “The rest of you, go sit down at the back of the bus.  And stay there.  And don’t try anything funny.  I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it.”

The passengers once again looked to Tony for direction and, when he nodded in approval, they made their way to the back seat.

“Not you, old man,” said Dick to Joe.

“Excuse me?” asked Joe.

“You heard me, you and me are going to have a private conversation.”

“You’re not taking Joe anywhere,” said Tony firmly.

“You’re not in any position to be giving orders,” laughed Dick.

“Force of habit,” said Tony easily.  “Look, you’ve got my gun.  I’m not going to do anything to endanger these folk but I’m not letting you be alone with Joe.”

There were a few seconds of standoff but then Dick seemed to decide that it would be safer to have Tony close by than potentially plotting something at the back of the bus.

“All right,” he said, “But no funny business.  Understand!”

Tony raised his hands in a placatory gesture and nodded to Joe to follow their captor down the bus.

“OK,” said Dick, “You help out at the Dismal Halfway House, right?”

“Dismas,” corrected Joe, “After St Dismas.”

“Whatever,” said Dick impatiently.  “Last week, some clothes were brought in …”

“Yes,” said Joe, “That happens a lot.”

“They were sent by mistake.”

“Then you should talk to the people who run the place,” said Joe.

“That’s what this is about?” asked Tony, “You sent some clothes and you want them back?”

“ _I_ didn’t send them.  They’re not my clothes.  They belonged to my grandfather.  He died last year.”

“I’m sorry …” said Joe.

“Then my grandmother died.  Some busybody cleared the house …”

“You weren’t there?” asked Tony.

“Not my fault,” snapped Dick, “And none of your business, Mr Nosy Fed.  By the time I got there the stuff was gone.”

“Like Joe said, you should ask the people in charge.

“I did,” Dick waved the gun around a little, “They said that he …” he pointed the gun at Joe, “had started work on them.  They let me have a look around but what I wanted wasn’t there.”

“I’m sorry,” said Joe again, “We try to get the clothes repurposed as quickly as possible.  There’s always a demand for smart clothes for the ex-offenders to wear for interviews and suchlike.”

“What exactly were you looking for?  Perhaps Joe remembers working on it.”

“I remember everything I work on,” said Joe with simple pride.  Tony patted him on the shoulder in agreement.

“It was a long black overcoat …”

“We get a lot of those,” said Joe.

“With a woolly type collar and cuffs.  Astro … something …”

“Astrakhan,” supplied Joe.

“So you remember it?”

“I think so.  Although it wasn’t actually Astrakhan fur but the material which is made to look like it,” Joe paused and then, apparently thinking Dick might think this was a criticism of the collar and cuffs, said, “But very high quality and beautifully made.  Your grandfather had excellent taste.”

“And what happened to it?” demanded Dick.

“Ah, well,” said Joe, “Astrakhan isn’t so popular nowadays, you see.  But the coat was beautiful, so I cut the collar and cuffs off.”

“What!”

“I did it very carefully,” said Joe in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.  “And the coat went off to one of our clients almost immediately.  Such a lovely warm coat, he’ll get real benefit from it.”

“You cut the collar off?”

“And the cuffs,” said Joe.

“And what did you do with them?”

“Well, you never know what’s going to come in useful,” said Joe wisely, “So I didn’t throw them away.”

Dick winced but before he could speak, Tony asked, “How did you find where Joe would be today?”

“I followed him from the Dismal place.  Thought I’d find out where he lived and get into his place but when he finished work, he came out with someone and they got on to a bus together.  I figured I’d follow them and wait for a chance to get him on his own.”

“Martha brought in some of her son-in-law’s clothes,” said Joe, “I guess he’s having a clear out with the move.”

Dick waved the gun again, “And then you were all in the café, talking about your plans and then you all left at the same time so I thought I’d get hold of you today.”

“So, what happens now?” asked Tony, “Joe told you what happened to the coat.  We’re sorry you lost a memento of your grandfather but I’m sure you’ve got other stuff to remember him by.”

“I don’t care about the miserable old goat,” hissed Dick, “I hope he’s rotting in hell right now!”

“Oh,” said Joe.  He didn’t think it was a very adequate reply, but he was sad at the thought of bad feeling between grandson and grandfather.

“So where is it?” asked Dick.

“Where’s what?  I told you that the coat has gone on to a new owner and I don’t know his name.”

“Not the coat, the collar and cuffs.  Where are they?”

“I kept them back,” admitted Joe, “They might come in useful.”

“Where?” demanded Dick hotly.

“I-I took them home,” said Joe.

“Why?  Isn’t that theft?  Are you allowed just to take things that you like the look of?” asked Dick crossly.

“Pot, kettle black,” murmured Tony and then held up his hands in another placatory gesture as Dick directed a glare at him.

“I-I wanted to see if I could use the material on another project I’m working on at home,” said Joe, “A project for St Dismas.”

“So it’s at home now?  At your place?”

“Y-yes,” stammered Joe.

“Then you’re going to take me there,” said Dick.  “Go on, get out.”

“What?” asked Joe.

“You heard me, you and me are going to your place.”

“You’re not taking Joe anywhere,” said Tony firmly.

“Like I told you before, you’re not in any position to be calling the shots,” said Dick, “If you don’t do what I tell you some of these nice people might not be as healthy as they are now.”

Tony stared at Dick and seemed to sag a little in capitulation but a second later there was the sound of two clicks.

“Hey,” said Dick, “What was that?  What did you just do?”

For answer, Tony held up his arm.  Joe’s arm came with it: Tony had handcuffed them together.

“Take them off!  Now!” shouted Dick.

“No can do,” said Tony smugly, “Federal agents don’t carry handcuff keys with them.  You’re stuck with both of us.”

“What?” said Dick.

“Of course, you could shoot me,” said Tony reflectively but I think you’d find it hard to drag my body with you.”

Dick glared at Tony in pure dislike and, for a moment it seemed as if he might give into an impulse and indeed shoot him but then he calmed slightly, “OK.  Both of you.  Get out! Now!”

“What did you do that for, Tony?” asked Joe as they clambered somewhat awkwardly down the steps.

“I’m not letting you go off on your own with a madman,” answered Tony.

“I’m not sure he’s mad,” said Joe, “He seems quite well organised to me.”

Dick followed them down the steps, tipped the cell phones and batteries out of the sick bag on to the ground and did something to the lock to prevent it from being opened.  He then marched them around to the emergency door and did the same there.

“ _Very_ well organised,” said Joe.

“Walk!” ordered Dick.

“What?” asked Tony, “Walk back to DC?”

“No.  I’ve got a hire car waiting.”

“Where?” Tony looked around in puzzlement.

“Skyline Drive.  It’s over there.” Dick waved vaguely to the west.

Tony knew Shenandoah Park relatively well due to the propensity of sailors for getting lost or murdered there, “But that’s near Hawksbill!” he protested.

“It’s only about three miles.  Not far.”

“As the crow flies,” protested Tony, “And as you can see, we’re not crows.  It’s difficult walking.  Tough going.”  He looked worriedly at Joe who was fit for his age but might not be up to a mountainous climb.

“You’ll be fine,” said Dick nastily, “You’ve got a lot riding on being fine.”

“Come on, Tony,” said Joe, “We’ll be OK.  It’s a nice day for a walk.  After all, that’s why we came out for the weekend – to see the sights.”

Tony shivered.  Dick had hustled them out without their coats and, although the sun was out, there was a chill in the air.  He looked up at the clouds and saw that Douglas’ optimism about the weather looked to be misplaced as clouds were gathering.

“All right,” he said, “But you follow my lead.”

Joe nodded in his usual cheerful manner, “I’m guessing this reminds you of a movie?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dick made Joe and Tony walk in front of him, shouting out directions to guide them in the way he wanted them to go.  He stayed far enough back that they couldn’t lunge at him and this meant that his prisoners could conduct a quiet conversation.

“Do you really not carry the keys to your cuffs?” asked Joe.

“You think I was lying?” asked Tony in mock hurt.  For answer, Joe simply grinned.  “No, I’ve got them.  Say something with enough confidence and people go along,” in a louder voice he said, “You OK, Joe?  The going’s a bit rough?”

“I’m fine,” said Joe, “But I need to use the facilities,” he called back to Dick.

Tony hid his surprise.  He wasn’t surprised that Joe needed to _use the facilities,_ but he was surprised at the plaintive note in Joe’s voice: he had never heard him whine before.

“Hah!  Don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, _old man_ , but we don’t have any facilities,” said Dick.

“I’ll go behind a rock,” said Joe placidly, “There’s one there.”  Without waiting for answer, he tugged Tony towards the rock in question. 

Tony hoped that Joe would be able to manage with just one hand; he didn’t like to think where his chained left hand might be going.  To distract himself, he spoke to Dick,

“So, Ricky-Dicky,” he began.

“What?” asked Dick.

Joe wasn’t concentrating as fully as Tony would have preferred and he piped up, “Oh, Tony loves to give people nicknames.  Just ask his co-workers, they’d tell you.”

“Don’t think Tricky-Dicky here wants to meet my co-workers,” said Tony.

“Don’t call me Tricky-Dicky,” said Dick in an annoyed voice.

“OK, how about Ricardo?  Ricky?  Dicky?” asked Tony agreeably.

“You don’t have to call me anything,” snapped Dick.

“Fair enough.  So, Mr Nobody, how come you weren’t around to stop the house being cleared when your grandmother died?” asked Tony.

“None of your business!”

“Well, it kinda feels my business since you’ve kidnapped my friend and I,” said Tony reasonably.  “You know, you’ve put a crimp in our plans.  We’ve been planning it for weeks.  You left some disappointed people back in the bus.”

“Do I look as if I care?  Hey, old man, get a move on, will you?”

“Just finished,” said Joe.

“’Bout time, come on, move it!”

“Actually,” said Tony, “I need to go now.  It’s one of those things, someone goes … or I hear running water and it makes me want to go?  Do you get that too, or is it just me?”  Won’t be long.  But perhaps you’d like to whistle, I sometimes find that gets me in the mood … or make a sound like running water?”

Dick glared at Tony in pure dislike and watched him take his turn in going behind the rock where he made a few faces indicative of his difficulties in managing his business with just one hand.

“All done,” he finally said cheerfully.  “Come on, it’s coming on to rain.”

They walked in relative silence for a few minutes and then Dick shouted to them to start climbing the slope in front of them.  Tony stopped and turned in disbelief, “What?”

“You heard me.  We’re going to climb up here and cut across,” replied Dick.

“Look, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi …”

“What?” asked Dick.

“I just thought of that one,” said Tony.  “You know, from the Jungle Book stories?  Rudyard Kipling?  Didn’t your Mom used to read them to you?  Rikki-Tikki-Tavi was a mongoose …”

“Move it!” ordered Dick, “Before I shoot you, cut your arm off and leave you here to rot!”

“That’s not nice!  Not when I’ve been thinking of names for you,” said Tony sadly, “But, you know, I know this part of the world quite well.  For some reason, sailors keep ending up dead here …”

“You’ll be joining them too,” said Dick threateningly if you don’t shut up and do as you’re told!”

“All right, all right,” said Tony calmly, “But like I say, I know my way around here.  It might look shorter to climb up here and cut across, but it will take longer than staying down here and walking around.  Look, Joe’s not as young as he was … and I’m pretty much a pen pusher these days, don’t get out much in the field.  Don’t think him and me are going to be much good at climbing over these rocks.  And, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look like an outdoors person to me.  You’re very pale, you know.”

Joe sagged in a weary manner and breathed a little harder.  Dick looked sharply at both of them and then at the slope before them and felt a little daunted at the prospect of scaling the heights.

“All right,” he conceded, “But no funny business!”  He drew his cell out of his pocked and waved it around, “I’ve got an app.  It gives me directions.  I’ll know if you take us out of the way.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” insisted Tony, “I’m all for a quiet life.  Just want to get to your car and drive back to DC.”

“Huh,” said Dick sceptically, “Then why’d you cuff yourself to the old guy?”

“Got me there,” agreed Tony, “I have impulse issues.  Act before I think.  One of the reasons they keep me behind a desk these days.  I’m a liability out in the field.”

“Move it, then,” ordered Dick.

“Oops,” said Joe, “I need to go again.  I think standing still brings it on.”

“You only just went,” said Dick.

“I know, it’s my age,” sighed Joe, “The doctor keeps telling me I need my prostate seen to.  But you know how it is … never seems a good time.  He says it’s a simple procedure.  Says he’ll just go in …”

“I don’t want to hear about your prostrate,” said Dick.

“Prostate,” corrected Tony.  “Prostate.  Easy mistake to make.”

“That’s right,” said Joe earnestly, “And you youngsters should take it seriously, you know.  This happens to lots of men, you need to be careful.”

“Hey,” shouted Dick, “Get on with it will you!  Haven’t got all day!”

Joe obligingly ducked behind a convenient rock and Tony followed reluctantly. 

Dick sighed unhappily and tried glaring Tony and Joe into submission, but he thought that making Joe nervous might make Joe’s waterworks even less stable.  Finally, Tony and Joe were ready, and they began to walk the gentler route suggested by Tony.

A few minutes later they heard Dick swear and, looking back, they say that he was sitting on the ground pulling off his shoe,

“Damned stone,” he cursed.

“If you’d asked me,” said Joe helpfully, “I would have suggested a stronger shoe: there are some very good ones on the market.  You know, smartness combined with practicality.  I would say …”

“I _didn’t_ ask you,” said Dick.

“That’s true,” said Joe, “And to be honest, if you had asked me …” Tony gripped Joe’s hand,

“Don’t think our friend is interested,” he said softly.

Joe was about to reply but noticed an odd look on Tony’s face as he looked at Dick.  Tony’s face seemed to clear of its previous worry, and he nodded to himself slightly.

“You OK, Dick?” asked Tony.

“What?” said Dick suspiciously.

“Just trying to be nice,” said Tony innocently.

“Huh?”

“Well, like you’ve been telling us.  You’re holding all the cards; might as well try and get along.”

“And it’s taken all this time for you to work that out?”

“What can I say?” said Tony self-deprecatingly, “I’m not the brightest Federal Agent around.  My Director is just waiting for a chance to get rid of me.  Guess he has a point,” he added sadly.

“Yeah, I think so too,” said Dick sourly.

“And it’s coming on to rain.  I’m cold.  I just want this to be over,” said Tony.

Dick pulled his shoe back on and jumped up, “No arguments here.  Let’s go.”

“Joe,” said Tony, “I heard something on the TV the other day.  Said that prostate problems can be solved by crossing the fingers on your left hand.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask me how it works.  Some sort of acupuncture thing,” said Tony earnestly.

“And you think that will work?” asked Joe doubtfully.

“Worth a try isn’t it?  If it means you don’t have to keep stopping.”  Tony gazed at Joe for a long moment and then Joe nodded,

“OK.  I’ll give it a go!”

Tony grinned.  Somehow, he thought everything was going to be all right.

NCISNCIS

“What are you doing, dear?” Martha asked Ellie back at the bus.

“She’s taking finger prints,” said Douglas who was regaining his composure.

Ellie smiled and Douglas blushed; he wasn’t used to young women taking notice of him.

“That’s right,” she said, “I’m going to take some pictures and I’ll send them to Abby.  She’s our …”

“We know about Abby,” said Seya, “We haven’t met her yet but Tony talks about her a great deal.  We’re looking forward to the encounter.  Although,” she paused to consider, “I’m not sure what Martha will find to knit for a Goth.”

“She likes pink … and glitter …” said Ellie helpfully, “And skulls and bats.”

“Hmm,” said Martha, clearly warming to the challenge of knitting something other than blue and yellow football scarves, “You know some of my Fair isle patterns could look like tiny skulls.  I’ll have to think about that.”

It wasn’t long before Ellie had shots of the fingerprints she had lifted from the steering wheel wending their way to Abby.

“You don’t think he’s coming back, do you?” asked Julia.

“No,” said Ellie, “And don’t worry.  I’m armed.”  The others did not look as reassured as she had intended; it seemed they wouldn’t look forward to a gun battle.  “And,” she hurried on, “Abby’s arranging for someone from the bus company to come and collect you and take you back to DC.”

“Oh,” said Martha, “Oh, I suppose we’ll just have to try again another weekend.  You know, when we have Tony and Joe back.”

Ellie nodded, and hoped the optimism was not misplaced.  Before she could say anything, her phone rang to indicate a call from Abby,

“Bishop, I can’t get through to Gibbs,” she said by way of introduction.

“I’ll try,” said Bishop, “I might get through better from here.  And they took a satellite phone.  What have you found out?”

“Your bad guy is a very, very bad guy,” said Abby.

Ellie smiled weakly and moved away from the eager ears of the remaining bus people, “Go on,” she said.

“Richard Conatelli, usually known as Dick.”

“Not Macaluso?””

“No but that doesn’t mean he’s a very bad person.  He’s just come out of prison after serving a five-year sentence for robbery, assault and general violent nastiness.  And I know that’s not an actual thing, but it should be.”

“Anything else?”

“To be fair, and I don’t really want to be but I’m a scientist so I should be balanced … and the nuns say it’s important to look for the good in people … um, where was I?”

“Being fair?” suggested Ellie.

“That’s right.  I was being fair.  Well, Richard Conatelli comes from a long line of violent nasty people so perhaps it’s not really his fault.  It might be in his genes or in his upbringing, but I still think he could have fought against it.”

“Abby?  What do you mean he comes from a long line of bad people?”

“Very, very bad people,” asserted Abby, “Not Mafia or anything like that, which I suppose might be something in their favour.  But still, very bad things.  Richard’s father was something like the white sheep of his family, I mean he was still bad but just not so successfully.  He spent lots of time in prison, but it was mostly for low level crime and he kept on getting caught.  So, Richard spent a lot of time with his grandfather, Miguel Conatelli and _he_ …”

“Was a bad person,” prompted Bishop.

“Yes, he was.  And more successful … or anyway, not caught so much.  But he was sent to prison in the end and he died there – a year ago.  And his grandmother died a few days ago.  Richard was due to be released from prison and they let him out a few days early so he could attend the funeral.  Huh!”

“Huh what?” asked Ellie, surprised by the disgust in Abby’s voice.

“Huh!  He didn’t go.  Seems he went to see his old villainous friends and showed up a day or two later.  I mean, who doesn’t go to his own grandmother’s funeral?”

“Very, very bad people,” said Ellie, “Why do you think he’s gone after Tony?  Any connection between them?”

“Nothing that I can see.  And no ties to Joe either.  Anyway,” said Abby, “Once I had a name, I thought it would be good to see if he’d got any transport.  You know, got a car since he got out of jail.”

“And has he?”

“I don’t think he’s bought one … although I guess he might have stolen one,” said Abby bitterly, “But I sent his photo to car hire places near where he lives to see if he’s rented anything.  And one came back positive – they think they’ve rented him a car and were dropping it off today.  The manager’s calling me back with a location.”

“Great work, Abby … ooh, what was that?”  Ellie had heard one of Abby’s computers give a chirp.

“Hah!” said Abby but this was a happier sound than before, “Our friend was released on parole.  He’s wearing an ankle tracker!  Give me a few minutes and I’ll find out exactly where he is!”

“I’ll call Gibbs,” said Ellie, “Call me when you have the details.”

NCISNCIS

“Keep your eyes peeled, McGee,” ordered Gibbs as they headed down the track, “We need to spot where they turned off.”

McGee nodded although he didn’t expect that he would beat Gibbs’ expertise in tracking,

“Why do you think the guy took Joe and Tony?” he asked.

“No idea,” said Gibbs, “Don’t see why Macaluso would need Joe as well as Tony.  Unless he thinks Joe would guarantee Tony’s good behaviour?”

“Tony wouldn’t do anything to endanger Joe,” agreed McGee, “What is it, Boss?”  Gibbs had dived off to one side.

“Think they went off this way,” announced Gibbs.

“You don’t think they’re trying to go over the rise, do you?” asked McGee, “That’s crazy!”

“Since when were our bad guys known for their common-sense?”

“Good point, Boss.”  In fact, Tim suspected that many of their bad guys would be much more successful if they did have common-sense.

Gibbs continued to hurry down the path like some sort of eager bloodhound although McGee decided not to point out any similarity.  It wasn’t long before Gibbs stopped again.

“Think they stopped here for a while.”

McGee decided not to question how Gibbs knew this although he thought once again that he must really get the Boss to come talk to his Webelos.

“Why?” asked McGee.

Gibbs shrugged, “Joe’s elderly.  Might need a rest.  Have a look around.”

McGee had his own lightbulb moment, “Or a call of … well, you know … he might have had to … well, relieve himself.”  McGee went around the back of the rock where Joe had indeed attended to his _needs_ , “Boss!  You were right!  They were here.”

Gibbs hurried to join Tim and delivered a half-hearted accusatory glare at the suggestion that Tim had doubted him, “Look!” said Tim.

Gibbs looked at a T and an arrow scratched into the rock and pointing in the direction Tony and Joe and gone.

“Good work, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs.  He felt McGee’s plaintive gaze and sighed, “And good work, Tim for spotting it.”

Gibbs and McGee continued on the way for a few minutes and then the satellite phone rang,

“Gibbs.  What you got, Bishop?”

“The name of the guy who hijacked the bus is Richard Conatelli.”

“Not Macaluso?”

“Seems not.  Abby says he’s got a record of violence and comes from a long line of violent people.”

“Any connection with DiNozzo?”

“Nothing that she could find.  She’s still working on it.”

“Anything else?”

“Abby’s got a location for a car he hired.  Arranged for it to be left along Skyline Drive.  I can send you the exact co-ordinates.  It’s there now.  Guess he needed a getaway car for when he abandoned the bus.”

“Guess he’s headed there now,” said Gibbs, “Looks like he’s trying a direct route.  Not going to be easy going.”

“And Gibbs,” continued Bishop, “He’s only just got out of prison.  That means …”

“He’s got a monitor of some sort on him,” finished Gibbs.  “Get me …”

“Abby’s working on it,” said Ellie.

“Good.  And get …”

“Park police and local police are on their way to the car.  They’ll stake it out carefully.”

Gibbs ended the call without further conversation.

“Come on, McGee.  Let’s keep going.  Won’t be much longer before we know exactly where this guy is.  And _then_ we’ll find out what’s going on.”

NCISNCIS

The rain was coming down hard by the time Joe, Dick and Tony had walked another two miles.  Joe had taken the hint and not asked for any more comfort stops but he was walking slowly and was clearly tired.

“Road should be the other side of that ridge,” said Tony, “Be easier to keep going around though.”

“No, we’ll go over,” said Dick, “I want to get to the car before dark.”

Tony thought about protesting but he could see that Dick was getting impatient with the slow progress and was himself cold from the rain.  Besides, Tony told himself, this would soon all be over.  Everything was going to be fine …


	5. Chapter 5

It was, Tony decided, entirely his fault.  Deciding that _everything was going to be fine_ was like the time that Bishop decided they were going to have a quiet day.  No, scratch that, it wasn’t _entirely_ his fault because he put a giant portion of the blame on to shoulders of Tricky Dicky.  Whoever was to blame, however, it didn’t take away from the fact that things were suddenly beginning to go badly.

Joe had been struggling for some time but now, as the wind and rain increased and the temperature dropped, Tony could see that he was pale and breathless and beginning to find it difficult to put one foot in front of the other.  Tony suppressed a sigh and decided to go for the simpler option,

“Hey,” he shouted back down to Dick, “Can we stop a minute?  Catch our breath?”

“You want to rest?  In this weather?” demanded Dick, “No way.  Go on, get a move on!”

“But …” began Tony.  He stopped when Dick waved his gun threateningly.  “All right, man.  I hear you.  Come on, Joe.”

“Thanks for trying, Tony,” panted Joe.  “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he realised for the first time how _un_ reassuring those words could be.  They climbed a few more paces and then Tony stumbled.  He grabbed hold of Joe’s wrist to help keep his balance.

“Sorry!” he called back, “Two left feet, me.  Should’ve kept up with those ballet classes my Mom wanted me to go to!”

“Tony?” asked Joe.

Tony shook his head.

A moment or two later, Tony stumbled again.  Joe was aware of a blur of movement and a cry of pain.

NCISNCIS

“Gibbs.”

“Gibbs, Abby’s got the feed showing Conatelli’s general location,” said Ellie down the phone.

“General?” queried Gibbs.

“Coverage is a bit spotty out here,” said Bishop, “She’s doing her best.  She says he’s definitely out here and making his way to Skyline Drive.  The Park Police are staking out his car.”

“Any idea where he is now?” asked Gibbs.

“Using the sat phone to see where you are, she thinks they’re about a mile ahead of you.  Looks like they went the easier route, so they’ve gone the long way around.”

“Tell Abby to keep working on the feed,” ordered Gibbs, “Let me know if she can work out anything more exact.”

“Yes, Gibbs.”

“McGee,” said Gibbs, “You up for a climb?”

“Boss?”

“Abby thinks they’ve got the longer route.  Reckon we’ll catch up quicker if we go more direct,” explained Gibbs.

“Course, Boss,” said McGee with a sinking feeling.  It didn’t seem likely that Gibbs would go any slower for climbing a steep incline; in fact, part of him was probably relishing the challenge.  McGee wondered whether, after all, it would be a good idea to invite Gibbs to speak with his Webelos: Gibbs would probably take them on a ten-mile forced march.  No, Tim decided, he would have to make sure it was a classroom-based session.  He took a deep breath and followed Gibbs.

Some time later, Abby was able to pass on the information that Gibbs and McGee were probably within a few hundred yards of their prey although she still couldn’t give them a precise fix.  They paused at the top of the incline they had just scaled and surveyed the landscape trying to spot anyone through the gathering gloom and rain.

“Can’t see anything,” said McGee, preparing to set off once more.

“Nope,” agreed Gibbs discontentedly.  He paused a moment longer and then set off but then he and McGee stopped abruptly at the sound of gunfire.

“What!” exclaimed Tim.

“That way!” pointed Gibbs and set off at a run towards the direction the noise had come from.

They ran for about half a mile and then Gibbs signalled to McGee to slow down so they could approach more cautiously.  The sat phone vibrated to indicate an incoming call,

“Gibbs!” came Bishop’s voice, “Abby just managed to get a precise fix.  They’ve stopped moving.  And they’re …”

“Right in front of us,” said Gibbs drily as he ended the call.

At the other hand of the phone, Abby chuckled at hearing what had happened, “Welcome to the club, Bishop,” she said, “That’s the Bossman for you!”

“Hey, Boss!  McGoo!” came Tony’s cheerful voice.  “Don’t suppose you’ve got a barrel of brandy there, McStBernard?”

PREVIOUSLY

Joe looked in bemusement as his hand which was no longer cuffed to Tony’s.  And then he looked down the slope and saw Tony standing over Dick with a gun in his hand.  Dick was moaning in pain and seemed to have a small knife stuck in his right hand.

Joe hastened down towards them, “Tony?”

“You all right, Joe?” asked Tony without taking his eyes off Dick.

“What happened?”

“Decided it was time to bring this to an end,” said Tony.  “Was going to wait and see what happened when we got to the car.  I suspect there’s a welcoming party for us and they’d take over.”

“A welcoming party?”

“Oh, not welcoming for Dicky.  Welcoming for us.”

“But how would they know where to go?”

Tony spared a brief moment to grin at Joe before turning back to Dick, “I figure NCIS will have worked out who this joker is and that he arranged a getaway car.”

“How?”

“Abby,” said Tony.  “And I reckon that Gibbs with either McGee or Bishop are hot on our trail, right now.”

“What?” said Joe, still puzzled.

“Even if they haven’t worked out where the car is, they’ll know who our friend is.  And they’ll be tracking us.”

“But how?”

Tony nodded towards Dick’s leg, “He’s wearing an ankle tracker.  Saw it when he took his shoe off.”

“Then if help’s on its way why did you do that … and what _did_ you do?  Where did that knife come from?”

“Ah, well.  I haven’t told you everything about what I wear,” confessed Tony, “My belt’s got a knife in it.  Saved my life more than once.  And it turns out that knife-throwing camp was useful.”

“People can go to knife-throwing camp?” asked Joe, momentarily distracted.

“Yep.”

“Who sends their kid to _knife-throwing_ camp?” asked a still bewildered Joe.

The amiable look on Tony’s face faded momentarily, “Someone like Senior,” he said briefly.

“And what was that loud noise?”

“Dicky-wicky here dropped his gun when my knife hit him.  It went off, don’t think he had the safety on.  Very careless.”

“Hey!” wailed Dicky from his position on the ground, “I’m bleeding here.  I could die.”

“You’re not going to die,” said Tony dismissively, he took a closer look, “Well, not yet anyway!”

“It’s not funny!  You assaulted me!”

Tony had never seen Joe lose his temper before and it turned out to be spectacular,

“What!” shouted Joe, “You kidnapped a whole bus full of people!  Ruined our weekend away!  Held us at gun point!  Marched us miles through the wind and rain!  And you complain when we get away?  How dare you!  I’ve got a …”

“Whoa there,” said Tony, pulling Joe back when it looked as if he was going to punch Dick.

“I used to box when I was a boy,” asserted Joe, “And I reckon I still know some moves.”

“It’s all right,” said Tony, “Leave him be.  He’s not going anywhere but prison.  You’re feeling better?”  And indeed, Joe seemed to have recovered well once the strain of being captive was over.

“Is that why you did this?” said Joe in a slightly offended voice.

“You didn’t look good.  Wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”

“I guess,” confessed Joe, “I feel better now that we’re free.  I’m not sure I’d have lasted much longer.”

“Are you all right to carry on?  By yourself?” asked Tony.

“Why?”  The normally good-natured and kind Joe brightened up, “You going to kill him?”

Dick moaned in shock.

“No, I’m not going to kill him …” Tony directed a hard look at Dicky, “… unless he tries something stupid.  No, I want you to go on to the highway.  You might find his car but don’t worry, just flag someone down and tell them what’s going on.  I’ll look after Rikki-Tikki-Tavi here.  It’ll be fun,” he smiled unpleasantly at Dick.

“I’ll be fine,” said Joe, “Just point me in the right direction.”

“Take it slow,” said Tony, “The ground’s easier around to the west, then there should be a path to follow.  Take your time, there’s no hurry.”

“Hey,” protested Dick who thought there might be some hurry about him receiving medical attention.

“You sure he’ll be OK?” asked Joe whose kinder instincts were reasserting themselves.

“Yes.  And I’ll be fine,” added Tony hastily, “I do this for a living, remember.  And he’s not hurt bad.”

Joe finally agreed to set off for the road, grateful that the rest of the journey should be on easier ground.

PRESENT

“Where’s Joe?” asked McGee as he took in the scene before him.

“He’s on his way to Skyline Drive.  That’s where …”

“Conatelli’s rental car is parked,” said Gibbs.

“Nice,” said Tony appreciatively, “Thought you’d have worked it out.”

“Abby,” said Gibbs simply.

“But we tracked you … well, Boss tracked you the old-fashioned way to start with.  Found your arrows on the rock.”

“Yeah,” said Tony.  “Joe gave me the idea.  He was playing for time by keeping wanting to answer … well, lots of calls of nature …”

“You mean he was kidding?” demanded Dick.

Tony nodded.

“What?  That innocent looking old man?” Dick complained.  “Hey, does that mean that trick with crossing your fingers doesn’t work?  Man, I was going to tell people about that!”

“But we stopped all that when I saw Dicky’s jewellery,” said Tony smugly, he stooped and lifted one of Conatelli’s trouser legs up to reveal the tracker.

“That’s how we found you so quickly,” said McGee.  He looked at Gibbs and quickly added, “But I’m sure Boss would’ve got us here anyway.”

“Glad to see you anyway,” said Tony, “However you did it.”

McGee called through to Bishop to let her know they had found Tony and Conatelli.  Bishop confirmed that State Police had picked up Joe and were taking him to hospital.

“Is something wrong?” asked Tony in alarm when he heard this news.

“Just a check-up,” said McGee reassuringly,

“Might be a good idea for you to have one too, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs gruffly, “Being out in all this cold and wind, without your jacket on.”

“Who are you, my mother?” asked Tony.

“I figure we’re all going to the hospital,” said Gibbs, “This clown,” he pointed to Dick, “Need stitching up.  And we need to see Joe.  Let the doctors take a look at you, Tony,” he added gently.

Tony huffed in disapproval but somehow knew he didn’t stand much chance of getting away without being poked and prodded.

NCISNCIS

Somehow Gibbs wasn’t surprised when, sitting in the emergency room waiting for the doctors to finish with Tony and Joe, he saw the A to B bus pull up outside the hospital and the bus people pour out.

Gibbs went out to meet them,

“Sorry, Gibbs,” said Bishop, “They insisted on coming.”

“’s OK,” said Gibbs peaceably.  He held up his hands to stop the bus people swarming past him, “Hey, listen up,” he said, “Tony and Joe are both here.  Docs are looking at them but they both walked in here under their own steam.”

“Can we see them?” asked Martha.

“Wait a while,” said Gibbs, “I need to speak to both of them about what happened.  Get their statements.  When that’s done, you can see them.”

The bus people looked discontented, so McGee said,

“Why don’t we all go to the canteen?  Get something to eat?  We can pick out something for Joe and Tony, they’ll be hungry.”

Bishop had the clinching argument, “I could really do with a muffin,” she said a little plaintively.

The kind natures of the bus people were won over and they meekly, for the moment anyway, followed the NCIS agents leaving Gibbs to stand watch.

It wasn’t long before he was called through to where Joe and Tony were being treated.

“How are they, Doc?” asked Gibbs.

“No long-term damage,” said the doctor cheerfully, “I’d suggest a couple of days rest, but a good night’s sleep and a good meal should sort most of their troubles.  I’ll go get your discharge papers and you can be on your way, gentlemen.”

Gibbs nodded and looked at the patients deciding that they both looked OK although Joe definitely looked as if he needed to catch up on some sleep.

“You ready for me to take statements from you?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Tony.

“Why did Conatelli go after you, DiNozzo?” asked Gibbs.

“He didn’t.  He was after Joe.  Or at least, he thought he was.”

“What?”

“I worked on some clothes that had been donated from Dick’s grandmother’s house,” explained Joe.

“And?”

“And he wanted them back.  Seems he didn’t get to the house in time to stop it being cleared,” said Tony.

“Huh,” said Gibbs, “Abby would have an opinion on that.”

“Boss?”

“Seems Conatelli got early release from prison to go the funeral but he decided not to go.  Had better things to do.”

“Wow,” said Tony thoughtfully, “So if he’d been a good boy and gone to the funeral, he might have been able to stop the clothes being donated.  Guess virtue really is its own reward.”

“Why did it matter?” asked Gibbs, “Were the clothes valuable?”

Joe grinned, “Well he was pretty mad when he found out I’d cut the collars and cuffs off his grandfather’s coat – Astrakhan it was … or sort of.  Beautiful material.”

“He kidnapped a busload of people to get collars and cuffs back?” asked Gibbs sceptically, “I mean, I know I’m not as keen on clothes as DiNozzo here but I’m guessing that’s extreme even for some who likes their clothes.”

Tony and Joe looked at one another conspiratorially,

“Well, there might be something we didn’t tell Dicky,” said Tony.


	6. Chapter 6

“Go on,” said Gibbs, “What happened?”

“Well,” said Joe, settling down to tell his story, “It’s like I told Dick.  I took the collar and cuffs off his grandfather’s coat.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good look on a garment – you know, adds class but it’s a bit dated.  I don’t think Astrakhan’s been used in such a big way since … oh, I don’t know … what do you think, Tony?” Joe appealed to the other fashionista in the room.

Tony tilted his head as he considered the question but somehow he sensed a little impatience from Gibbs, so he said, “Let’s put a pin in that, Joe.  Don’t think Gibbs is all that interested.”

Joe directed a sad look at Gibbs’ sports coat and nodded wisely, “Anyway, I didn’t think most men these days would want a coat with a big furry collar like that.  So, I snipped the collar and cuffs off and, you know, the coat hardly needed any alteration after that.”

Gibbs resisted drumming his fingers impatiently but Joe, like Tony, sensed his wish to hurry things along.

“And, like I told Dick, I salvaged the material.  It really was very good quality.  Dick’s grandfather …”

“Miguel Conatelli,” supplied Gibbs.

“Mr Conatelli had good taste … and must have had some money … because it was well worth saving.  And I had it in mind for a project I’m working on.  I don’t usually make ladies’ clothes, but I’ve got an old coat belonging to my late wife.  In fact, it’s not all that old because she only bought it a couple of months before I lost her … ah well,” Joe sniffed and smiled a wobbly smile, “And I couldn’t bear to throw it away or donate it but lately I’ve been thinking that I could restyle it into something a young lady would like and perhaps the halfway house could sell it.  And the Astrakhan – or the lookalike – would have been perfect.  And young ladies today don’t always like real fur, and I quite understand why, so this substitute Astrakhan would be perfect.”

“And?” asked Gibbs by way of prompt.

“And so I took it home with me.  And I did some work on it yesterday afternoon,” Joe sighed, “It seems much longer ago than that.  It’s been rather _exciting_ since then.  How do you manage to do this for a living, Tony, Agent Gibbs?”

“It’s not always this exciting,” said Gibbs drily.

“No,” said Tony, “Hey, sometimes I go a whole month without being kidnapped!”

“We all met up in the café near the Navy Yard,” continued Joe, “You know, to make plans for today.  And Tony gave some of us a ride home and I asked him to drop me off last.”

“Hmm?” probed Gibbs.

“I wanted to show Tony the material.”

“DiNozzo an expert on this Afghan stuff?”

“Astrakhan, Boss,” corrected Tony, “Not that it matters, of course.  But you’ll want the statement to be right.”  He encountered a glare, “No, I’m not an expert.  And I have to say, it’s not really a look I’d go for … although I guess if I’d been around in the 1930s I’d have liked it …”

“That’s not why I wanted Tony to look at it,” said Joe, “Although Tony has excellent taste and if I’m ever doubtful about an article of clothing I always try to get his opinion.”

“Thanks, Joe,” said Tony, “That means a lot coming from someone with your background.”

“Hey!” barked Gibbs, “Can we move it along a bit?  Why did you want Tony to take a look at the stuff?”

“I could feel something hard and lumpy,” said Joe, brief at last, “I didn’t think it could be any sort of stiffening I’d ever come across.  You know, it should be something like buckram or horse hair or some really stiff linen.  It shouldn’t be anything that goes lumpy and it was very strange given what good quality the coat had been.”

“Joe wanted me to have a look,” said Tony.

“I wondered if it could be cocaine … there’s something called rock cocaine, isn’t there?” asked Joe.

“Joe was worried that if he opened it up and it was drugs it might burst out in a powder and he wouldn’t know what to do.”

“And,” admitted Joe sheepishly, “I didn’t want to show it to anyone else in case it turned out to be kiddies’ candy or something, or the lining had just bunched up some.”

“And was it?” asked Gibbs, “You know, candy or botched lining?”

“No,” said Tony, “The collar had about 100 uncut diamonds and each cuff had around 40 uncut rubies.”

“And what did you do?” asked Gibbs.

Tony and Joe looked sheepish, “We were looking forward to the outing,” said Joe, “We’d taken a lot of time planning it.”

“We didn’t want to disappoint the others,” continued Tony, “So we decided to wait until after the weekend to tell anyone.”

“And where are all these jewels now?” demanded Gibbs.

“We brought them back to my place.  Joe stayed the night and I put the diamonds and rubies in my safe,” said Tony.

“Tony made an appointment with the Metro PD station near my apartment.  We’re due to see them the day after we get back,” said Joe helpfully, “We weren’t going to keep them.”

Gibbs rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, “And you didn’t tell Conatelli you’d found the loot?”

“No, just that I’d taken the collar and cuffs home.  I didn’t want him to go back to St Dismas and hurt anyone and I knew he wouldn’t if he knew the stuff wasn’t there.”

“And if you’d waited a moment or two, I was about to tell Dicky that you’d given the material to me, but you jumped in before I could say anything,” said Tony a little severely.

“So it’s OK for you to try and protect someone, but not me?” asked Joe.

“It’s my job to do that,” said Tony kindly.

“Guess that’s why you cuffed us together, was it?” asked Joe.

“Ah,” said Gibbs, “Wondered how he got both of you to go with him … and why.  Guess it’s a good thing you came to work first thing, DiNozzo.”

“Why?” asked Joe.

“Instinct,” explained Tony, “If I’m going to work, I automatically gear up.  I’d have my gun anyway, but I put my handcuffs in the usual place … and made sure I had the belt with the knife buckle.”

“Good thinking, DiNozzo,” praised Gibbs, “Well, apart from sitting on a fortune in uncut gemstones, that is.”

“It was very impressive, Agent Gibbs,” said Joe earnestly, “One minute we were walking along and the next, the cuffs were off, Tony had thrown his knife thing at Dick and had his gun.  I didn’t have to do a thing.”

“Like he keeps saying,” said Gibbs, “It’s what he’s paid to do.”  He did, however, bestow an approving nod on his Senior Field Agent.

“Any idea where the stones came from, Boss?”

“Not exactly.  But the Conatelli family is crooked and violent.  Richard spent time with his grandparents growing up because his dad was in prison a lot.  Would make sense that Miguel might have some sort of hiding place for his stash and that he’d tell someone in the family.  He died in prison, so I guess he never had a chance to cash anything in.”

“I don’t think Dick liked his grandfather much,” said Joe remembering the suggestion that Dick wouldn’t care if he was rotting in hell.

“I’m guessing he liked his uncut rubies and diamonds though,” said Tony practically.  “What do you think will happen to them, Boss?”

“You’ll find out when you keep that appointment,” said Gibbs.  “Depends whether they can be traced back to any crime.  It might be that your halfway house will get some money out of it, Joe.”

“Does that mean we can carry on with our trip?” asked Tony hopefully “You don’t want us to go back and tell Metro PD now?”

Gibbs shrugged, “Might as well carry on.  I figure those stones have been in his coat for a few years.  ‘nother couple of days won’t make any difference.  I might go and sleep at your place until you come back, DiNozzo, just to make sure they’re safe.”

At that moment, there was a tap on the door and McGee put his head through,

“I’ve got your bags out of the bus.  Thought you might want to change into dry clothes and out of those scrubs.”

“Thanks, McThoughtful,” said Tony.  He cocked his head as he heard something.

“Ah yes,” said McGee, “I couldn’t hold them back any longer.”

The sound intensified and Joe, Gibbs and Tony realised it was the sound of many approaching feet.  A moment or two later and the bus people surged past Tim.

Joe and Tony were enfolded in many hugs.  Gibbs didn’t get out of the way quick enough and was also hugged.  Charlie started singing _Wheels on the Bus_.  Douglas kept on patting Tony and Joe on the back as if he needed to keep reassuring himself that they were back safe and sound.  Martha kept on asking if they really were all right and calm, serene Seya surprised herself and everyone by bursting into tears.

As emotions ran high, Joe called for attention, “Everyone!  Agent Gibbs says we can carry on with the trip.  Do you want to?  We might have to find somewhere else to stay tonight …”

“Tim and I can sort something out,” promised Ellie.

“And Ernie sent Sid out with a replacement bus,” said Martha, “That’s the one we came here in.  Ellie said the original one was a crime scene now.”

“And I’ve still got some of my Indian snacks,” said Seya tearfully.

“Then let’s go!” said Tony.  He turned to Gibbs for confirmation, “You’ve finished with us, haven’t you, Boss?”

“Go on,” said Gibbs tolerantly, “Just try and stay out of trouble for the rest of the trip!”

The bus people cheered before being ushered out by the NCIS agents so that Joe and Tony could get changed.

“So, how many rooms do we need to book?” they heard Tim asking as they walked down the corridor.

“Tony,” said Joe when they were alone, “I just wanted to say …”

“You don’t need to say anything,” said Tony, “We both did what we needed to.”

“I’m sorry if I got you into trouble.”

Tony beamed, “My middle name is Trouble!  Actually, it’s not because my middle name begins with D.  And no, I’m not going to tell you what it stands for; it’s a secret.”

“But …”

“No buts!  I reckon we worked well together.  You know, we were like ying and yang; coffee and cream … like …”

“Dolce and Gabbana,” suggested Joe.

Tony beamed again but then said more seriously, “You know, I reckon you’d have made a good cop.  I would have you as a partner anytime!”

Joe gave Tony a brief hug, “Thank you!  And now, we’d better get a move on before we get invaded again!”

NCISNCIS

Gibbs wasn’t unduly surprised when it was Joe who arrived at the bus first.  Given a chance, DiNozzo liked to take his time getting ready.  He took another bite of one of Seya’s onion bhajis and felt something like contentment wash over him.

A moment later, McGee came running up to him,

“Boss!”

“What, McGee?” the contented feeling wavered a little.

“Abby phoned.  She forgot to switch off the tracking …”

“Doesn’t matter, we’ve got Conatelli …”

“No, Boss!  Ricardo Macaluso – he’s got an ankle tracker as well ‘cos of being released on parole.  Abby started tracking him when we thought he was after Tony.”

“So?”

“She’s just noticed.  Macaluso is in the hospital here!”

Gibbs threw the rest of the bhaji on the ground, “Damn!  Joe, where’s Tony?”

“He’d just finished changing when someone asked for a word …”

“What did he look like?” asked Ellie.

“About Tony’s age … but greyer.  Very muscular, I’d say he worked out a lot.”  Joe’s eye for people was as keen as ever.

“Is something wrong, Agent Gibbs?” asked Martha in concern.

“Wait here!” ordered Gibbs.  “Bishop, McGee!  With me!”

“On your six, Boss,” they chorused.

“You know,” said Seya thoughtfully, “I never really believed Tony when he said that’s what they say.”

Gibbs signalled to Bishop and McGee to slow down as they approached the room he had left Tony in.  He remembered how the sound of the bus people had carried down the corridor.  The door was closed, he leaned forward and put his ear to the wood and thought he could hear the sound of voices from within.  He nodded to his agents to be ready, unholstered his gun and kicked the door open,

“Ricardo Macaluso!  Stand down!” he roared.

“NCIS!” shouted Bishop.

“Put your weapon down!” ordered McGee.

“What?” asked Tony.

“I don’t have a gun,” said the other occupant of the room.

“What are you doing here, Macaluso?” asked Gibbs.  He gestured to McGee to pat him down for potential weapons.

“How did you know I was here?” asked Macaluso.

McGee paused in the patting down to point to his ankle, “Someone always knows where you are,” he said sternly.

“How did you find DiNozzo?” asked Gibbs equally sternly.

“I hired a private investigator.”

“Why?” asked Bishop.

“Think it’s obvious _why_ , Bishop,” hissed Tim.

“And how did _he_ find DiNozzo?” asked Gibbs, waiting to pounce on some invasion of privacy.

“Luck, I think.  Said he was working on finding out where he lived … and then he caught some news coverage of a bus load of people getting hijacked and then showing up at this hospital.  And then he saw some earlier coverage of Tonio being brought here as well.  He phoned me to let me know.  And here I am.”

“Huh,” said Gibbs, deciding that he might let the PI off the hook unless he knew why Macaluso wanted to catch up with Tony.  “You’re under arrest, Macaluso.”

“For what?” asked Macaluso. “I mean, I’m not allowed to go back to Baltimore, and I haven’t.  And I haven’t missed any appointments with my parole officer.  What you gonna arrest me for?”

“You know damn well what for,” snarled Gibbs.

“Uh, Boss,” said Tony deciding it was time to intervene, “Ricky …”

“Threatened to kill you at the trial, DiNozzo!”

“That’s why I’m here,” said Macaluso.

“Get him out of here, McGee,” ordered Gibbs.

“No, wait!  I wanted to see Tonio and tell him …”

“What?” demanded Gibbs.

“That prison worked.”

“What?” said Gibbs, McGee and Bishop in unison.

“I was really angry at the trial.  Me and Tonio were close … or I thought we were.  And then I found out he was an undercover cop and that he’d betrayed us …” McGee tightened his grip on Macaluso’s arms.  “And all I could think of was revenge.  That’s why I said all those things at the trial … I was so mad with you, Tonio.”

“Gibbs, Ricky told me – just before you all came bursting in – that he’s changed his mind.  He’s had a lot of years to think about it: you know, away from his family, from that mindset.  And he knows that what he and his family did was wrong.  And he wanted …”

“To apologise to Tonio.  And to let him know that he’s safe from me.  That I wouldn’t kill a friend.”

Silence fell in the room.

“See, this is why I have a rule against apologies,” muttered Gibbs as he thought that life would have been much simpler if Ricardo Macaluso had kept his reformed character to himself.

“Take care of yourself, Ricky,” said Tony, “Try and keep out of trouble this time, eh?”

“I will.  And you take care of yourself too, my brother.”  He lunged forward and seized Tony into a warm embrace before releasing him enough to kiss him on each cheek.

There was an exchange in rapid Italian before Gibbs said, “Think you should be on your way, _Ricardo_.  And a suggestion, don’t show yourself in DC anytime soon.”

“Understood,” nodded Ricardo.  He took Tony’s hand in a gesture which Bishop suspected was some sort of secret handshake and left the room.

“He’s Italian,” said Tony as if this explained everything.

Gibbs sighed as he hoped that the latest DiNozzo crisis was over, “You’d better hurry up, _Tonio_.  Your friends are waiting.”

“On it, Boss,” said Tony as he seized his bag.

As Gibbs, McGee and Bishop waved the bus off, they faintly heard the sound of, the bus people’s favourite song,

_“Tony and Joe are back with us,_

_Back with us,_

_Back with us,_

_Tony and Joe are back with us,_

_We’ll have fun!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done at last! We’ll let the bus people go off on their trip and hope they don’t get into any more trouble. Thank you to everyone who’s come on their latest journey!


End file.
